


Dedicated (to the one I love)

by ispeakbecauseican



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, content warnings listed in the chapter notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26992627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ispeakbecauseican/pseuds/ispeakbecauseican
Summary: "In another life, we’re married, ya know,” Lenny says matter-of-factly.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 16
Kudos: 126





	1. Love can never be exactly like we want it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... so I keep watching 3.5 and I've re-watched the series in full like 3-4 times now. I just really adore Lenny and Midge and I was daydreaming about them - as one does - and like??? The conversation I wrote below between them in the bar kept playing in my head, and I thought it was sweet :3 So I said "hmm lemme just write this down" and then I kept writing and it turned into this? And I was so happy to read the news from the other day that TMMM creators have a bigger role for Lenny in s4. I can't wait!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Takes place sometime between 3.1 and 3.3. Sorry for any typos; no one's proof-read this and I wrote most of it last night at like 1am.
> 
> CW: drinking, cigarette smoking, brief mention of drug use and paraphernalia

She leaves the note on her pillow, slides on her flats as she grabs a coat, and heads out the door without a sound.

HEADED OUT FOR WORK, BE BACK SOON

It wasn’t exactly true, but the excuse on the note would do. Her parents are getting used to Midge coming and going at all hours of the night now anyway. 

She starts to feel guilty - starts to get those voices in her head that say “You’re a bad mother, Midge! And a bad daughter.” But _god_ it had been an exhausting evening. First, Susie had called saying the last gig they had scheduled before the tour got pulled; Midge had been really looking forward to trying out some of her new material before going on the road. And then, at dinner when she was complaining about it, Mama and Papa took every opportunity to remind Midge that what she was doing with her comedy career was not stable. Was not becoming. Was the reason they’re not planning a wedding right now. And on and on and on. 

And Midge is almost used to it at this point. Really, she is. But something about tonight really tipped her over the edge. And so she took her plate, unfinished, to Zelda in the kitchen, got the kids ready for bed and put them down, and then laid in her bed. 10pm… 11pm… 12am. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to her parents voices in her head drone on. And then she tried to practice some of her new bits, but there wasn’t an audience there to listen. And so, frustrated, she got out of the apartment. 

She wanders a few blocks before catching a cab and finds herself getting out somewhere around W 83rd. She walks a few more blocks, sees a bar she recognizes, and walks in. And it’s like déjà vu: Lenny is there again, only this time sat at one of the small tables along the back. A cigarette between his fingers, and a half-finished glass of bourbon in front of him.

Midge walks towards the back, catching the waiter along the way to order her martini. “What number are you on?” she asks, signaling to his glass as she walks up to the table. Lenny looks up at her, not missing a beat: “Only the second, but the last for the evening, as I am being fiscally stingy tonight.”

Lenny pulls out the seat next to him, signals for her to sit. “I can, however, add one more to the tab and buy the beautiful lady a drink.”

“Got one coming already,” Midge says, just as the waiter comes by and drops off her glass. They sit quietly for a moment, Midge sipping at her drink.

“So,” Lenny starts. “Here we are. Again. In the middle of the night at a shitty bar uptown. I’m here because I am lonely and I am broke and I am finding it increasingly difficult to get work at clubs in this city, so there’s nothing better for me to be doing.”

Midge tuts at that, “Screw them for not booking you. They’re passing by on a set from the best comedian in the business.”

“Ha, yes, well. As all the owners of the clubs I perform at keep losing their liquor license when the cops take me in, I can’t say I blame them,” Lenny says.

“It’s brutal,” Midge says. She’d been hearing about this, Susie relaying most of it to her. She knows he was arrested in Chicago those several weeks ago when he told her the last time they were both here. And she’d heard he got taken in again somewhere in Philly after _The Steve Allen Show_ performance, but got those charges dropped pretty quickly. He must be laying low back in the City for a bit. 

“Yes, it is,” Lenny says. He waits a few beats, then looks up at Midge. “So, that’s my sob story. Why are you back here,” he pauses, looking at his watch, “… at 1am in this shitty place again, Upper West Side?”

Midge takes a breath, steals his cigarette that’s resting in the ash tray for a quick drag. “Well,” she says, exhaling the smoke around them. “It’s mostly that I’m going fucking crazy in my parents’ apartment and I couldn’t sleep and I just got my last gig pulled before the tour with Shy starts. So I was angry and frustrated and came out to drink alone. Only, here I found myself a friend and I’m not so mad now,” she finishes, a smile on her face. 

“Well, I’m glad I could be of service,” Lenny says. “I gotta warn you, though, I was planning on leaving what money I have in my pockets, which only covers about half my tab, and getting the heck outta here before they realize. You may have to cover for me.” 

Midge smirks, “I think between the both of us, we’ll handle it.”

They sit and and sip their drinks and smoke for a bit. Midge learns Lenny found a new apartment with some of the money from the television show and the promise of a couple of bigger gigs in the works. She learns that he officially filed for his divorce with Honey and that he doesn’t get to see his kid nearly enough. She doesn’t ask about all the other rumors she hears - of him in the backs of clubs or on floors of house parties. She doesn’t want to think about Lenny like that, with needles and sores all up and down his arms. 

Midge tells him about Benjamin, about how Lenny’s right that sometimes you really are alone and that she’s a coward and couldn’t end their engagement face-to-face. And she tells him about how she feels guilty for leaving her kids, even just tonight. She tells him about her pre-tour fears and what if her kids forget her for the six months she's gone and is she an asshole for leaving the kids with her parents and her in-laws and her ex-husband.

“You’re not a coward or an asshole, Midge,” Lenny says softly. Midge looks up at him, smiles sadly. She appreciates his words, but she can’t agree.

“Oh!” she remembers, suddenly. “The flowers! Lenny, you sent me flowers.”

“I did, indeed, Mrs. Maisel. I sent them as an expression of my deep gratitude for your mothering me before my big, scary playdate with Mr. Allen. Thank you,” he says. He pauses. “Also, I sent them to woo you.”

“Oh, I was wooed. My mother - though she’d never admit it - was wooed as well. Hell, I think even my father was weirdly wooed. ” Midge remembers the small smirk on Mama’s face after she read the card and all their questions about the gentleman who sent the flowers; how she went on about Lenny and his work to her father. “Seriously, thank you, Lenny.”

“Anytime,” he says. Then, “Well, not really. Flowers are expensive and I am getting broker by the day. But, figuratively in an alternate world where I have money, I’d send you flowers anytime.”

She chuckles, sipping at her drink and watching him take a long drag of their cigarette. He stares off, seemingly in another world for a couple of minutes. 

Then: “In this alternate world, we’re also married, ya know,” Lenny says matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, we are?” Midge asks, sprinkling surprise in her voice. “And that Lenny and Midge - the married us - tell me more about them.” She plays the role, plays into the joke. But there is a part of her that really wants to hear this, wants to listen to what Lenny is going to construct for this bit. Because it’s not yet hit too close to home, but she knows it wouldn’t take much to get there.

“Well, for starters, we’re not a couple of low-life comics haunting the grimy club scene of our great New York City.” 

“Hey, now that’s not the way to refer to your alternate-universe wife, Mr. Bruce. I played that _very nice_ club-" she pauses. "Well, okay. I played that _moderately nice_ club three weeks ago. The bathroom was in the back of the club instead of stage right,” Midge quips.

“Oh, forgive me, wife. My apologies and allow me to rephrase.” Lenny pauses, makes a show of clearing his throat, and restarts. “For starters, I’m not a low-life comic and you’re not a feisty, Upper West Side comedienne _mostly_ haunting the grimy club scene of our great N-Y-C.” 

“Thank you,” Midge smirks. “So, then, what do married, alternate-universe us do?”

“Well,” Lenny starts, then pauses. He looks past Midge, eyes going softer around the edges. “You’re at B. Altman still, since there is no universe out there where Midge Maisel isn’t the epitome of poise and beauty.”

“Ha! Tell that to the me who you met a year ago drunk in the back of a police car,” Midge says.

“And for me,” Lenny continues, “I write for the papers. The opinion section. But I don’t get arrested. This alternate universe me, he’s a good guy, dig? He’s a real good guy, and he has a house with his wife, and they work their jobs, and then they come home. And alternate-you, you have your briskets that are just as good as your now-you briskets. And I’m a really stand-up guy, in the alternate universe; a real modern guy. And I help with the other dishes: the roasted carrots, the potatoes, the whole thing.” 

Midge is following along intently to this world for them that Lenny is creating. She’s watching his face and his eyes light up as he thinks of something new, watching his mouth quirk up at the corner when he says something particularly inspired. She wants to interject, get the details of this paper job or ask him how the Midge in his world can work at B. Altman during the day but also still have a brisket ready for them by dinnertime, because, boy, _that_ is an all-day affair. But he seems far away, as if he’s recalling that other world like it’s a memory. She stays quiet as he continues.

“And I know you want hired help in the kitchen, alternate-Midge, I know. We’re working up to it, see, we’re saving our finances. Budgeting, because we can do that. Because, in this alternate-universe, we’re not on the way to being bled dry from lawyer fees and court fines and bail money. Because,” he pauses, turning his head slightly and focusing back on Midge. A small smile on his face. “Because, in this world, I’m not some low-life, dirty comic and you’re not a comedienne saying all the true things that make cops and club owners mad. And we don’t get arrested and we don’t get worn down by it all. By the police or the shitty club owners or our exes.”

Lenny seems to have paused for the moment, seems to have run out of steam imagining this other life. He takes a drink, the last gulp of his bourbon, and Midge takes the opportunity to drink her martini. _Now_ , she thinks, _it is starting to hit too close to home._

“And are we happy? In that life, are we both happy, Lenny?” Midge asks. 

She likes her B. Altman job, and she’s good at it. Knows her makeup brands and what works best on the clients. She thinks Lenny would be a fantastic writer; she can imagine reading his words on paper, hearing his voice in her head as she reads an article he’s written on voter suppression of Black citizens or the latest scandal of the Catholic church or police brutality during the raid of a gay club. He’d get people talking about the issues just like he does in this world with his sets, but- 

But. 

But Lenny is made for the stage. This Lenny in front of her, the Lenny in the alternate world; the Lenny Bruce of every universe is one for the stage and for the spotlight. For the microphone. For the wink to the audience and the smartass nod to the cops along the back wall and the gasps and the laughs and the scoffs in the room. 

And Midge. Midge would be perfectly content at B. Altman. She’d paint her clients and learn all the new brands and she’d outsell all of her co-workers, because she’s good at what she does. And she would be content and comfortable. But the thought of not getting up on that stage, of not feeling that electric air shift back and forth between her and her audience. Of not setting up and then hitting the punch just so, at just the right time, having the audience in full control of the perfectly constructed journey she takes them on every night. The thought of not sharing in that quiets the fire in her and dampens those sparks she feels throughout her body when she’s the focus of every eye in the room. 

“Happy… hmm,” Lenny muses. He just stares at her a moment, hand in front of his lips. He takes a breath and continues. “In that life, Midge, we go to our jobs, and then we come home to our nice, but not Upper-West-Side nice apartment. We eat your brisket, which is just as perfect in that world as it is in this one. And then we laugh to comedy records and slow-dance to music in the evenings. We change into our pajamas for bed. And then we lay down next to each other every night. We’re warm and comfortable. You always give me the sweetest little kiss on the cheek, one that I treasure every time you do it. And then I pull you against me and we go to sleep to do it all over again the next day.”

He pauses, and she almost reminds him that he didn’t answer her question. _Are we happy?_ But then Lenny is finally pulling his gaze from her, face going slack as he drops his head down into his hands and against the table. 

“I’m so tired, Midge. Every day- I’m just so tired,” he says, voice bone-weary and quiet. 

Midge looks at him, his head bowed and the last of the cigarette still smoking in the ash tray. She’s heard it before. “Sisyphus, you said. Last time. Sisyphus, the bolder, the hill,” she pauses. “I remember.”

Midge knows Lenny couldn’t exist in any universe and not be up on that stage. And it’s costing him - mentally and financially. She puts her hand on his back, rubs comforting circles while she downs the last of her drink. Midge signals the waiter for their bill.

“Lenny, I’m buying our drinks, and then I’m taking you home. How far is your new apartment? Should we walk or take a cab?”  
_______________

They walk. They hadn’t drank enough to be drunk but the cool air of the night did good to refresh them, and Lenny’s apartment was only about eight blocks from the bar. He lived in the third-floor walkup of an older apartment building, and when they entered, Midge saw that his apartment was small and tidy and warm. She was pleasantly surprised. She’d never visited Lenny’s other apartment but always imagined it to be a true artist's dwelling: cigarette butts everywhere, newspapers strewn about, liquor bottles laying around.

“This is a nice apartment,” Midge said as she took off her coat.

“I know I am appearing very fragile and down in the dumps right now, but I assure you that you don’t need to go overboard with the compliments,” Lenny chuckled. 

“No! It is nice, Lenny. Small, but it’s cozy. It smells like your cologne, too.”

“Oh, yes. That’s actually to cover up the lovely stench of trash that wafts in through the windows. It’s very pungent, especially as the weather gets warmer,” he quips. Lenny hung up his coat on a hook and is toeing off his shoes, placing them by the door. When he turns around, Midge stands there in the middle of his small living room, not quite sure what to do now. She paid for his drinks, walked him home like she said she would. It’s two o’clock in the morning, and she knows she should bid him goodbye and catch a cab back to her apartment. But, she doesn’t want to leave. She doesn’t want to break this bubble that she and Lenny have created tonight; the bubble that she and Lenny seem to create every time they find themselves in each other’s company. And she feels like he could use a friend tonight. 

“Do you think-” Midge starts. “Do you think I could stay here tonight?” She pauses for his reaction, watching him watch her. He lets out a quiet breath and smiles. “I just… I don’t want to go home. I need a friend, and I think you need a friend. And right now, Lenny, you’re one of the best friends I have.”

Lenny reaches his hand forward. “Give me your coat,” he says. “And you can put your shoes next to mine by the door.” Midge breathes out a sigh of relief, and they go through the motions of getting ready for bed like there’s not even a question about how Midge will fit in to the nighttime routine. Lenny lends Midge one of his soft undershirts and a pair of pajama bottoms, both big on her but good enough for sleeping in. Lenny gives her the bathroom first, and she rinses her face with a warm washcloth. She’s quietly thankful she’d already taken her makeup off for bed earlier in the night, and only added a stroke of mascara and a pinch of pink to her cheeks before heading back out into the night. 

Once she’s finished in the bathroom, she steps out to find that Lenny has already changed into pajamas as well. He’s filled two glasses of water, and put them on the bedside table. And she sees two folded quilts at the foot of the bed that weren’t there earlier. Motioning, Lenny says “For in case you get thirsty or cold during the night.” Something about seeing this touches Midge. A water glass on the table and an extra blanket says _I thought of you and I worried over your comfort and I didn’t want you to wake up thirsty or cold and not know where to find anything._ It says _this is my home and I want you to feel at home here and I want you to have what you need to be comfortable._ Midge smiles: “Thank you.”

Lenny ducks his head and then takes his turn in the bathroom while Midge slides into bed. She isn’t sure what the protocol is for this. Truly, it would be so much easier if she and Lenny were fucking like everyone says they are. She’d know her role and how to play it. But they’re just… friends. They are. Except, none of her other friends look at her quite the same way that she catches Lenny looking at her sometimes. None of her other friends give her those jittery feelings in her chest and stomach when she sees them. None of her other friends seem to make the world stop around her when they talk about their lives and whisper their struggles and share in their laughs. She and Lenny - they’re just friends… except they’re not. And they have both tip-toed around it for the better part of a year. 

She’s laying in bed on her back, staring at the ceiling when Lenny steps out. “Need anything else before we settle in?” he asks softly, trying not to disturb the stillness in the room. Midge looks towards him, smiles, and shakes her head no. Lenny cuts off the lamp in the room and then slides in beside Midge. It’s not a huge bed, but there is enough space for them to lie comfortably side-by-side with a couple of inches of space between them. 

They lie in the stillness and in the quiet of the room for several minutes. The light from the street outside pours in blue and illuminates the room pleasantly. Midge turns her head to the side, looks at Lenny’s profile in the dark. She can feel the warmth from his body along her side and hears the quiet steadiness of his breathing. “Thank you for letting me stay, Lenny. I just… did not want to go home tonight. And I didn’t want you to be alone tonight,” she states quietly.

Lenny opens his eyes and turns his head towards her, smiling softly. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight either,” he says. 

Midge watches him, waits a beat. Then, “For what it’s worth, regarding what we were talking about earlier… I don’t think you’d be happy - not truly happy - as your alternate-universe self.”

Lenny breathes out a long sigh, his eyes falling closed. “I know,” he admits, “and I know you wouldn’t be happy either.” He says it like he is finally admitting to it, like he has clung to that false world for ages, despite knowing in the back of his mind it would never be a reality.

And that’s the curse of it, Midge realizes. The curse for them both. They could have that comfortable life in some perfectly adequate apartment eating their brisket with each other or with their exes or with whatever completely random people that the universe may throw at them. They could have that and they wouldn’t be as tired or as broke or as delinquent as they’ve both found themselves to be of late. But, _god_ , would they be bored. They need the stage and they both know it. 

Lenny keeps his eyes closed, seems to resign himself to sleeping the disappointment away. Midge watches him a few moments before turning over towards him on her side and scooting closer. 

“But maybe, for tonight, we can pretend,” she whispers and she places her hand against his chest, clutching at the worn cotton and feeling his solid heartbeat against her palm. He keeps his eyes closed, and gently reaches up to hold the hand placed against his chest, threading his fingers through hers. Midge leans in, giving Lenny a soft kiss on his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. She feels the stubble against her lips and feels the curve of his grin before she settles back down against him. He lifts his other arm around her shoulders and scoots her more firmly against his side.

“Just like our other Lenny and Midge, huh?” he says.

“Yes,” Midge replies, her face turning to whisper against the warmth of Lenny’s neck. “Just like them.”  
_______________

In the morning, they’re a bit quieter with each other, but the smiles and laughs come as easy as ever. Midge swears the circles under Lenny’s eyes look less dark, less deep than they did the night before. He makes a pot of coffee and she cooks the last four eggs in Lenny’s fridge while waiting for the oven to toast their buttered bread. They sit together at Lenny’s small table, heads bent toward each other and savor the quiet of the morning while they eat their breakfast.

The two leave together, passing a cigarette back-and-forth on the sidewalk before Midge gives in and hails a cab. One stops in front of them and she scoots onto the seat. Lenny leans his head in, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “Until next time, wife,” he smiles. Midge reaches her hand up to clasp at his where it rests against her. “Don’t make me wait too long, husband.”

Then he shuts the door and the cab takes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took liberty with some of the details, like Lenny's "Philly arrest" I referenced above. He actually did get arrested in Philly, but according to what I read, it was for drug possession and I'm not sure about the charges. I also think that the show's timeline w/ Lenny doesn't quiet line up accurately to the real timeline? The Chicago arrest happened in '62, but I'm pretty sure that it's still 1959-1960 in the show? Anyway - not a big deal. But if anyone was really hung up on the details and finding some inaccuracies in this story, I just wanted to explain.
> 
> But other things, like the bar they're at, I did research and try to keep accurate. Turns out that is a real bar you see in the show (ep 2.10) called 'The Dublin House.' It's in the Upper West Side, on W 79th Street. It first opened in the '20s, and it looks like it is still open today!
> 
> There _may_ be a part 2. I've got some ideas floating around for a post-season 3 meeting for these two??? Idk. We'll see. Now that I'm unemployed I have loads of free time so :'''''')


	2. While I'm far away from you, my baby, I know it's hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“And should I be asking you what you’re going to do with Lenny Bruce’s phone number once I give it to you?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, so here's a part two. And a third part is coming now too lol. I was originally going to post it all as a 'part two' but it's longer than I thought it'd be, so I just split it up. 
> 
> This hasn't been edited for typos by anyone, so I apologize in advance. Enjoy!
> 
> CW: very brief mention in first sentence about wishing for death, depression

It’s been almost three months since Midge and Susie watched Shy’s plane fly away from them on the runway that night, and Midge can pretty confidently say she now wakes up most days no longer feeling like she wants to die. In those first few weeks after she was fired from the tour, she felt like she was in a daze, never quite fully awake despite going about her days as normally as she could. _But_ , she thinks, _I’m getting better_ , and she even had her first post-tour gig a few weeks ago. Susie did admit that, once Midge told her she was ready to get back to the stage, it was a little tougher finding her a spot. Word gets around. “But, Midge,” she’d said, “once they see you back on the stage and see how fucking good you are, it’ll start getting back to normal. I promise.”

Midge can’t say yet - after only one gig - if it is indeed getting ’back to normal’ yet, but she feels better since she’s been back up on the stage. She feels like maybe she can get back to being herself again. _Except_ , she remembers, _that’s precisely the problem._ Midge really messed up at the Apollo and she can’t go back to being her normal self. She has to figure out how she can make things better. How she can change herself and be a better person and apologize to Shy and grow up. 

In addition to the shame, it was the money situation that was another major concern for her. Susie and Midge got their agreed-upon cut from the US tour dates as outlined in their contract, even for the Apollo show. But, Reggie had told Susie on the phone once they’d landed in Europe that, due to _breach of contract, section 7 and subsection C_ , their international contract was null and void and all that income they were counting on, that Midge was counting on to pay for her share of the apartment, was now no longer coming in. Honestly, they couldn’t even be angry; it was a shitty situation, and even Reggie sounded resigned over the phone. They accepted the nullification of the contract, reiterated their apologies, and haven’t heard from him since. 

Midge had been able to talk her way back into taking shifts at the B. Altman operator switchboard, which helped with the money problem. And while Abe was no longer earning a tenured professor’s salary or a Bell Labs check, he was bringing in a small income through his new position at the paper. After a few weeks, the constant worry over money Midge was feeling started to slowly fade away.

Midge had given Moishe a very abbreviated rundown of how the second half of the tour was no longer happening and she would need some time to figure out what she wanted to do in regards to her part of the payment for the apartment. But, that in the meantime, she could pay for part of their agreement if he’d please _please_ extend his generosity to allow her family to continue with their plan of moving in. And god bless, Moishe - a phrase she never thought she’d say - he agreed.

It’s at her first show that she gets the idea to call Lenny in her head. She was going through a new bit in her set, one she’d planned out for her Europe dates, when she saw a man in the audience sitting towards the back of the room. He was tall, clad in a suit and had dark features, and smoked a cigarette as he sat in the shadows. For a brief moment, Midge tripped over her words, because she thought it was Lenny sitting there watching her. She shifted her eyes away continuing on with her set, and the next time she looked back at him, he had stood up, the light from the bar shining over his face. Midge could see that it was definitely not Lenny. But ever since, she’d had him on her mind. 

Actually, to be honest, Midge had Lenny on her mind off-and-on since the last time she saw him in Miami. She can’t get that image out of her mind of him watching her walk away. He wrapped the suit jacket she’d just given back to him so tightly around his shoulders; she was sure it must smell like her perfume after she’d been wearing it all evening. And his eyes had fallen heavy over the sad smile he’d given her before she turned back around to walk away. There had been times when Midge, lying quiet in her bed in the middle of the night while she couldn’t sleep, thought of what may have happened had she taken his hand and led Lenny through the threshold to his room, closing the door behind them. 

But Midge didn’t do that. _He’s too important_ , she tells herself. _He’s too important for you to have done that back in Miami._ Everything was in such a state of flutter and transition and movement then. Going from one city to another and then another. She was so busy, constantly writing for her set, practicing in the afternoons. And _christ almighty_ she’d just accidentally re-married her ex-husband. No. She’d made the right decision to not chance her and Lenny’s friendship that night. 

But now she’s back to feeling like somewhat of a person. And she feels like she’s getting back to her normal self, finding her footing in the world again. So, she can’t stop herself from calling up Susie one afternoon to ask if she has Lenny’s number.

“Lenny? Lenny, who?” Susie says, not even acknowledging Midge’s greeting before she’d asked.

“Susie, what do you mean who? Lenny,” she pauses. “Lenny Bruce. You’ve met him, remember?” Midge answers. “Though, maybe you did forget; you always get so flustered around him,” Midge teases. 

Susie makes a noise of exasperation, sounding kind of like a chicken who was just very surprised by… whatever would surprise a chicken. “Alright, thank you for _that_ , Midge,” Susie says. 

“Sorry, I’m just kidding around with you, Susie,” Midge answers. She quickly feels a bit bad for teasing her despite Susie being a godsend, staying by her side and supporting her through these past few months. “But, do you?” Midge continues. “Do you have his number? Like, I figured maybe you’d have it on-hand for the Gaslight, like for gigs or something.” 

“Lenny Bruce is not someone that the Gaslight is calling for gigs, alright? Remember, our speed is more banjo-players and poetry-readers, _bad_ poetry readers, at one in the morning to an audience of approximately six and on their way to being comatose,” Susie says.

Midge pauses. “And me,” she says, slightly offended. 

“Yes,” Susie says. “And you - when you were starting out - on our packed nights on Fridays or Saturdays. But even still, we do not have Lenny Bruce’s number, I can assure you,” Susie says.

Midge is quiet for a moment; she really thought Susie would have it…

“But,” Susie says when Midge doesn’t answer, “I can probably make a few phone calls and get it.” A pause. “Would you like me to do that, Miriam?” asks Susie, her voice a bit sarcastic.

“Well,” Midge says slowly, “that would be very helpful if you could do that for me, Susie.”

“And should I be asking you what you’re going to do with Lenny Bruce’s phone number once I give it to you?” Susie quips. Alright, Midge thinks, now she definitely sounds sarcastic. 

“Susie, come on,” Midge says, rolling her eyes. She continues, “Remember when I told you I saw Lenny in Miami while you’d come back to New York for the Sophie thing?” She waits, Susie doesn’t say anything. Midge continues, “Well, I just- I just haven’t talked to him since. I don’t even know if he’s back in New York yet or anything. But I wanted to try to ring him up. See if he is here.”

“Oh, he’s here,” Susie says. “He’s got a gig next week, down at George’s Corners in Greenwich Village. Heard one of the other managers talk about it when I was at the Stage Deli the other day.” Then Susie promptly hangs up.

It’s not another hour before Midge’s telephone rings.

“You got a pen and paper, toots?” Susie says, bypassing a greeting.

_______________

It takes a couple of days for Midge to work up the nerve to dial his number. 

She’s never really been nervous around Lenny before. In fact, that’s one of the reasons she really likes being around Lenny. He’s so easy to talk to. They find their rhythm within the first few words, and then their conversation takes off. And he’s always a surprise, never saying the things Midge expects, always challenging her questions with another one of his. Sliding in a joke here and there, making her laugh. 

It’s just - Miami happened. _Miami happened_.

And the most confusing thing about Miami _happening_ is the nothing actually, truly happened. But she felt like it did. Lenny brought her on-set that night at the ‘Miami After Dark’ show. He’d said, ‘What are you, my sister or my wife? Let’s go with wife!’ And Midge remembers her mind flashing back to that night in Lenny’s apartment, lying next to him, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek. She remembers breakfast that next morning, him standing beside her and buttering both their slices of toast while she scrambled their eggs. And she remembers: ‘Don’t make me wait too long, husband.’

Then he’d taken her out to that themed dinner club, sitting across from her and looking at her the way he did. And it wasn’t how Midge had been used to being looked at by men, in that way like they were trying to figure out how to lure her to them. How to trap her. When she’d said _you’re staring_ , Lenny said _am I?_ and smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners just so. She leaned back into her chair a bit more, took a drag, and bathed in his gaze. It was heavy on her, and she felt like a precious thing, like he was in awe of her sitting there just across from him. Then they’d danced and he’d taken her back to his hotel and she- left him there at the door of his room. And she then went on to spend the night on a plastic lounge chair back at her hotel’s pool. 

So, yes, she was a little nervous to call him. 

On a Tuesday afternoon, while Mama was out shopping for groceries, Papa was at his office writing an article for next week’s paper, and the kids were both down for a nap, Midge picked up the phone and dialed the number Susie had found for her. 

The line rang six times, and Midge was just about to hang up when she heard the other line pick up.

“Yeah, hello?” Lenny said. He sounded out of breath, like he was struggling with something.

“Lenny?” Midge said. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause. “Midge? Is that you?” she heard him ask faintly. It sounded like he was switching the phone from one side to another.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, hi, Lenny. It’s Midge Weissman. Well Maisel, but Weissman. It’s Midge.” She waited a moment. “I’m sorry, did I catch you at a bad time? It sounds like you’re in the middle of something.” 

“No, I’m at the end of something actually,” he says, his breath sounding like it’s starting to even out. “Lugging six bags of groceries up three flights of stairs by myself in one trip. And then having to dig the key out of my pocket without breaking the fucking eggs that are in a carton buried somewhere in one of these bags.”

“And did the eggs make it?” Midge asks.

“Indeed, the eggs did make into the apartment safely,” Lenny said. Midge imagined she could hear a smile in his voice. “Hello, Upper West Side. I gotta say, it’s a surprise to hear your voice.”

“Hi, Lenny. Yeah, I know. I’ve been wanting to call you for the past few weeks, but I didn’t have your number. So, I had to call up Susie and have her dig around and find it,” Midge said.

“Well,” Lenny started. Midge thought she heard the scrape of a chair. She imagined him sitting down at his small kitchen table where they’d eaten breakfast. “I can’t act like I didn’t hear about what happened, Midge. I don’t know the story or anything, but I’m really sorry to hear that Europe didn’t work out. I can’t imagine you’ve had a good time these past few months.” 

Midge’s eyes teared up a bit; it’d been three months and she was mostly fine. But hearing sincere sympathies from a friend who she knew cared about her reminded Midge that she was still very much working on fitting herself back together.

“I was out in California the past several months. I went there after Florida, and I just got back into New York about two weeks ago. I told myself if we didn’t do our usual business of randomly meeting up at 2am in some smoke-filled bar soon, I’d write to you. But, here you’ve done the work for us.”

“Yeah,” Midge replied. “It’s been a really tough few months. I-“ she paused. “I just really fucked up, Lenny.”

“Oh, come on. We’re comics; that’s our job, to say stupid stuff on stage and then get in trouble for it,” he said.

“Yeah, to say stupid stuff about the pope or about whatever shitty politician made headlines that week or about some creep you saw on the subway,” Midge said. “It’s not our job to say stupid stuff about our bosses. It’s not our job to potentially put our bosses in danger.”

Lenny didn’t say anything right away, she heard him breathing quietly on the other line. Then, “Shit, Midge. What happened?”

Midge explained everything to Lenny. She hadn’t really had the chance to do that yet with anyone other than Susie. She couldn’t tell Mama or Papa or Joel that she got kicked off the tour because she accidentally almost outed her boss to an entire packed auditorium. She didn’t speak about that to anyone, feeling such shame at the flippant way she’d talked about Shy. She’d just been joking, trying to follow Reggie’s direction of _talking about Shy_ to people she thought knew him. 

But she can’t even really use that as an excuse. Yes, sometimes - especially here in the city - it seems like times are changing, but Shy Baldwin is a Black man in America. He couldn’t even stay at the hotels he was performing at. And Midge further endangered him by talking around and joking about his sexuality. She feels so stupid and so naive and so full of shame. 

She tells all of this to Lenny, a tear slipping down her face and her chest feeling tight. 

“Well,” he says, after she’s finished, “it sounds like you fucked up.” 

“Yeah, I fucked up,” she says. “Big time.”

“Have you been able to talk to him at all since you got kicked off?” Lenny asks.

“Just Reggie, when he called and spoke to me and Susie about contracts and money stuff. I apologized again, profusely, telling him how I misunderstood the situation, but that it still doesn’t make up for the fact that I could have put Shy in danger. That I was just so sorry and I would love to talk to Shy if he’d hear me out,” Midge explained. “I mean that hasn’t happened or anything. They’re supposed to be getting back from Europe soon, and I was hoping that maybe…” Midge trails off. “I don’t know, maybe I’d be able to track them down when they get back. But, I doubt I’d ever be allowed to get close enough to Shy again to talk with him.”

Lenny sighs and says, “Well, Midge, I think you should still try it. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of… said some not-so-great things to people that I wish I hadn’t said. And my biggest regrets have been not trying to mend it with them.” 

“Yeah,” Midge says. She’s quiet for a moment, then: “I will. I’ll try to mend it with him. I’m not sure if Shy will even look at me again, but I’ll try my hardest to apologize to him personally.”

They paused a moment; Midge could hear paper bags rustling in the background on Lenny’s line, and she wondered if he was trying to unload his groceries, phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear. She was charmed, imagining him in his small kitchen with the afternoon sunlight coming in through the window.

“So, how are you holding up otherwise?” Lenny says. Midge can feel the shift in tone, thankful to stop talking about how shitty she feels for a bit. She was concerned she was keeping Lenny on the phone for too long, talking his ear off. But he seems fine to keep the conversation going. So, Midge talks about moving into her old apartment, and how she is picking up shifts again at B. Altman in the switchboard room, and how she had her first gig back after the tour a few weeks ago. 

Midge asks after Lenny too, and he talks about the gigs he got while he was out in California. She gets him to talk through one of his new bits, has her in stitches by the end of it, giggling at him through the phone line. And she asks about his daughter, finds out that he brought her back to New York and he and his mother are caring for her here. “So, actually,” he says, “I’m planning on being a lot more stationary for awhile. I’ll pick up what shows I can here in New York, and some cities close by - Jersey, Pennsylvania. I’ll try to be on my best behavior and all that. We’ll see. But yeah, you may be seeing me around more Mrs. Maisel,” Lenny says.

“Weissman,” Midge replies. 

“Ah, of course,” Lenny answers. “Miss Weissman. Though, if you’re planning on changing your stage name, I’ll warn you that it will confuse the hell outta the audience.”

Midge chuckles. “I’m not changing my stage name, no matter how tempting that has sounded lately… I’m just trying to get back to some kind of norm now that my divorce is finalized. Well, finalized again,” she says. 

“Noted,” Lenny answers. “By the way,” he says, “I am doing a show next week. Thursday, down in Greenwich Village. You should come.” Lenny pauses, then says, “I’ll take you for drinks after if you’re up for it.”

Midge smiles to herself, flashing back to Miami. “I would love that, Lenny.”

He gives her the details of his show, and they say their goodbyes soon after. Lenny says that his tub of ice cream is going to melt if he doesn’t get it in the freezer soon. Midge promises to see him at his show, and then hangs up.

She feels a bit raw, retelling her end to the tour and talking about all the shame she’s felt and how she wishes, more than anything, she could make it up to Shy. But talking through everything with Lenny and him letting her vent to him makes her feel lighter than she has in a long time. And she’s happy he didn’t just let her off the hook. He acknowledged that yes, she did a terrible thing. And he encouraged her to try to apologize to Shy. 

She takes the next few moments to develop a plan. She’s looked up the date on her old tour schedule for when Shy was due to fly back to the US from Europe, and she’s made herself a reminder to try to get in contact with him - either directly or through Reggie. She has to apologize and she has to make amends. 

Her conversation with Lenny has given her a bit more strength; it sparks a new energy inside her. And she’s now so excited that she gets to see him next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I got the name of the club Lenny is performing at from the real Lenny Bruce's autobiography! He apparently used to perform there. :)


	3. I could be satisfied knowing you love me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you invite me to your bed again, Lenny, I promise I’ll say yes this time.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand here's the final part. Please note the change in rating. All sex-related things should be tagged; otherwise, I can't think of any CWs for this section. If I need to add anything, please just lmk! <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy; thank you for reading.

Midge arrives to the Greenwich Village club just in time to find one of the last few empty seats and order a martini before the M.C. takes the stage. He does a quick two minutes before introducing Lenny, who bounds on with that muted, introspective enthusiasm that Midge has come to find so endearing. 

It’s the first she’s seen him since Miami, and he looks good. His dark hair is slicked back with a few stray curls hanging down on his forehead. His eyes are dark, and they shine like glowing coals as he stands fully in the spotlight on stage. He has color in his cheeks, and they look a little less hollow; his hands aren’t shaking and he fills out his suit so nicely. Lenny looks good. He looks settled in himself and right where he should be as he leans into the lively atmosphere of the room, preparing to take the audience along with him through his set.

He does a couple bits she’s heard, and several others she hadn’t. New material, she guesses. It’s good, of course. All of it funny, and all of it landing with the audience. Midge felt the ache of her cheeks from laughing after a particular line - something about Artie Shaw, a lieutenant commander, and Lana Turner. She took a sip of her drink and then looked back up to find Lenny staring straight at her, a small smile on his face. Midge felt frozen, caught among the laughter and the glasses clinking and the crowd murmuring, but hearing none of it because she was focused on Lenny. He gave her a quick wink, before continuing on with the rest of his set. 

When Lenny had finished and disappeared through the stage door, Midge sat for a few minutes to finish her drink and pay before heading out for a smoke. She gathered her purse and the coat from the back of her chair, exiting through the side door that led out to the alley. 

Midge was a few minutes into her cigarette, leaning against the cold brick of the building and listening to the muffled music that had just started from the band due on after Lenny’s performance when the side door opened. Lenny leaned his head out, spotted her, smiled, and stepped out into the chill of the night while he shrugged his coat on. 

“There’s my favorite Upper West Side chick,” Lenny smiled. “You’re missing the band, they just went on.”

“Well, really I came to see my favorite comedian - who was _phenomenal_ , by the way - but his set’s done and I needed a smoke more than I wanted to see the band. So, here I am,” she replied.

Midge opened her cigarette carton and slid one out, offering it to Lenny who took it while pulling out a lighter from his jacket. He lit the cigarette and inhaled, the burn of the paper making a quiet crackling noise.

“So,” Lenny said after a moment of silence. “Who’s got gout?” 

Midge laughed, looking up at him and remembering the last time she'd heard that line. She wasn’t afraid things would be awkward- well, okay. After Miami, she was a bit worried the next day that things _could_ be _slightly_ weird the next time they saw each other. But their phone conversation the previous week had gone really well, and she was genuinely so happy to see him again. Lenny taking the step to break the ice - even if it was only a very small, thin sheet of ice - was appreciated.

“No one’s got gout,” Midge said, looking at him and continuing to take a drag of her cigarette. “Mama’s only had one additional breakdown since they fled to me for refuge on tour over the summer. And someone threw a rotten vegetable at Papa on the street for an article he wrote in the papers, so he’s thrilled! He’s writing for _The Village Voice_ now,” she said. “And the kids are still alive, safe, and too young for gout. At least I think they are… So, yes. Everyone is good. And gout-less.”

Lenny tilts his head to the side and asks, “And how are you?”

She took a breath, glancing away from Lenny. “Oh, you know… like I said on the phone, I’m not great but much better now than I was. I still have days where it really hits me that I blew the best gig I may ever have, all because I can’t find the fucking line.” A pause. “Actually, no it’s not even about finding the line. It’s being mindful of the larger world outside my bubble. It’s thinking about others and considering their lives and their troubles and their joys and their dangers-”

“Hey,” Lenny interrupts. “We talked about it. You fucked up, you know you did. You’re sorry for it and you’re trying to mend it. It happens, and you’ll learn.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Midge says. “I don’t mean to hijack the conversation with talking about this. Again.”

“You’re not, Midge. I asked about you. I’m glad you told me,” Lenny replied, throwing his finished cigarette on the ground and pressing it into the asphalt. “Anyway, I can hear the band go into the next song. Wanna head back inside?”

Midge looked at him, the streetlight casting shadows along his face that cut high cheekbones and a strong brow. “No,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t be able to hear you in there over the music. And I came to see _you_ , so I want to be able to listen to you and look at you.”

She was testing the waters, not sure where Lenny’s head was and if he would still want Midge like he seemed to want her almost three months ago on a warm Miami night. But he had turned towards her, leaning his shoulder against the brick wall and his eyes softened around the corners. “Alright,” Lenny says.

“I’m glad you invited me tonight,” Midge says. “I’ve… well, I’ve thought a lot about the last time we saw each other. In Florida.”

“Yeah?” Lenny asks.

“Yeah, I have,” she answers.

“What parts?” Lenny says, smiling. “Hey, did you end up going back to the dinner club to catch that human sacrifice night?”

Midge rolls her eyes and grins, happy that Lenny is generous enough to keep the conversation light and easy if Midge wants an escape route. “No, I didn’t go back. It wouldn’t have felt right going there without you.”

She’s thought a lot about how she’d talk to Lenny tonight, what she’d say and how she’d tell him that, more than anything, she wished she could have stayed with him that night. She steels herself, flicking her finished cigarette on the ground, determined to not take the easy route.

“You know, Lenny, I really wanted to talk to you about that night,” she says.

“Midge, no. It’s fine, you don’t have to-“ Lenny starts.

“No, I know I don’t have to say anything. But I want to. I… Lenny, I really wanted to stay with you that night,” she finishes, her voice soft as she looks up at him. 

“I was standing there in front of you, after you’d treated me to a perfect evening. I got to be with you on television, and then you took me to this beautiful, crazy dinner. And I learned that you are actually a wonderful dancer,” she chuckles.

“Well, my mother taught me well,” Lenny replies. 

“And then we walked back to your room and you were calling me sensational, and I just-“ she paused. “All I could think about was a conversation I’d just had with one of the girls in Shy’s band. She said: ’Midge, you can sleep with anyone for a one-night stand on the road as long as there are not any feelings involved and that their room is clean.’” 

Lenny wrinkled his brow. “‘As long as their room is clean,’” he repeated. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Midge smiled, “I don’t know; it was something about clean room, clean dick.”

“Anyway,” she continued. “You were looking at me, your eyes all dark and pretty. Like they are now…” she trailed off. “And I looked into your room; it was clean. And I thought, _damn, it’s too bad about the no-feelings clause._ Because I knew I would never be able to spend the night with you and nothing come of it for me.”

Lenny inhaled quietly, stepping a little closer towards Midge.

“I’m not even saying anything serious or groundbreaking. But, you’re my friend, Lenny. My good, _dear_ friend, who is so funny and smart and beautiful. And who is making change in the country and getting up there to talk about important things. You don’t just kid and snipe and crack jokes; you _demolish_ things, Lenny. These ridiculous things that society has constructed that keep us caged and in-line and repressed. You show how stupid it all is, and then just demolish it,” Midge says, her voice rising slightly. 

“And helping me out, with my career when I was first getting started and really needed the support. I’ll never forget that,” she pauses for a moment and steps a little closer to Lenny, right in front of him. 

Her voice softens: “I knew I couldn’t just overlook all of who you are to me, decide to stay and spend the night with you, and then just forget about anything that would have happened between us. Not when I’m on tour and you’re on the road and neither of us have any time. You’re too important to me to have just spent it all up in that one night while we were on the road and going in different directions,” Midge says. She’s looking up at him, her eyes shining. 

Lenny hasn’t yet said anything; instead, just watching her. He reaches out, taking Midge’s hand in his. At this point, they’re so close to each other that Midge can feel the warmth coming from underneath Lenny’s open coat as they stand in the dark, chilly air of the alleyway. 

Lenny rubs his thumb softly over the knuckles of Midge’s hand, and lifts it to his lips where he softly kisses her. “I’ve _missed_ you,” he whispers against her cool skin.

A bolt of warmth slides through Midge. She squeezes the hand that Lenny’s holding, and brings her other arm up to drape over his shoulder. It reminds her of them dancing that night, all wrapped up in each other. Then, she stands on tip-toe, taking the last small step into Lenny, and she kisses him. 

The kiss is gentle and it’s sweet, and Midge figures it’s probably not what Lenny is used to at all. But he seems to love it, to savor it. He pulls Midge tighter against him, and she goes easily, deepening their kiss. She nips at his lips and then opens up more to him. Their breaths mingle, warm against their faces in the chilly air, and Midge sighs when Lenny caresses her tongue. 

She pulls at him, turning so that her back is against the brick wall and Lenny is towering over her. He brings his hand up to cup her head, preventing it from getting scratched up by the rough brick, while she clutches tighter at his coat collar. His whole hand is cradling her head, thumb brushing along the fine hairs at her temple. Midge pushes her hips into him, whimpering as he directs his kisses away from her mouth and across her jaw towards her ear. 

Lenny whispers, “Be careful, Miriam, or you’ll lead a guy on.”

Midge pulls him tighter into her, her left leg curling around his calf. “I’m not leading anyone on,” she gasps out over his shoulder as he continues mouthing at that space along her jaw, just below her ear. “Fuck, at this point I’d put out for you right here.”

“I bet you would,” Lenny chuckles. He pauses, lifts his lips from her skin to look at her, their noses almost touching. “But I’d rather you were in my bed for when I put my mouth on your pretty cunt. If you’d let me.”

Midge honest-to-god moans at that, and clutches at Lenny’s dark hair to pull him back towards her mouth so she can kiss him again. 

It’s then that they hear the loud horn of a car pass by the opening of the alley, startling them apart. Lenny grins down at her, licks at his lips to get more of the taste of her while wiping off the pink lipstick trail she left. Midge takes a moment to catch her breath. She looks at Lenny looking back at her, his dark eyes shining. Her lips are swollen and red - much like his - and she feels dazed by him. 

“Are you still at your same apartment as before?” Midge asks.

Lenny nods, stays quiet. 

“If you invite me to your bed again, Lenny, I promise I’ll say yes this time,” she says. 

Lenny inches back closer towards her from where they were startled apart, and he cups her elbow over the wool of her coat. He smiles, but says nothing while Midge waits a few moments. 

“C’mon,” she says, looking up at him. “I’m dying here.”

Lenny leans down, his mouth close to her ear, and murmurs: “Please come with me back to my apartment, and let me take you to bed.”

Midge’s eyes flutter shut as she turns her face and pecks him on the cheek. She then reaches for her purse that’s sitting on the ground, loops her arm through his, and they walk to the mouth of the alley to hail a cab.  
_______________

There isn’t much talk between them on the ride to Lenny’s building or on the walk up to his apartment door. Once inside, Lenny hangs up both their coats and Midge’s purse, and they reach down to take their shoes off, leaving them by the door. Midge has a brief flashback to the last time she was here, standing in the middle of the apartment not quite knowing what to do. 

Lenny’s watching her. “You know all this is in your hands, Midge. All of it’s up to you. Just tell me what you want from me,” he says. He’s bathed in the soft light from the lamp in his living area, barefoot and looking at her so sweet. She can’t help herself.

Midge walks forward to take his hand in hers and she brings his palm up to kiss it; she sucks the tip of his finger into her mouth before giving it a quick peck and then interweaving their fingers. “I want what you said you’d do to me earlier,” Midge says quietly with a soft smile. 

Lenny blinks slowly, inhaling quietly before he starts to pull her with him towards his bedroom. She goes easily with both of her hands hanging on to one of his, while he cups her cheek with his other hand. They don’t miss a step and Lenny walks backwards, sitting down on the edge of the bed with Midge standing in front of him.

She stands in the V of his knees, now a head taller than him, and smiles down at him. “This is okay?” she asks. 

“You tell me,” he says. “This is way better than ‘okay’ with me.”

“Good,” Midge answers. She cups his jaw on each side and trails her thumbs along his cheekbones. Then, she bends her head down and kisses him. Her hands trail back to the base of his head, and she scratches her nails dully through his hair and along his scalp. He groans softly, angling his head up so he can kiss her deeper. 

Lenny gathers the skirt of Midge’s dress in his hands, and shuffles the fabric up her legs until he can reach under and cup the backs of her knees. He squeezes gently over the delicate fabric of her pantyhose, and then slowly moves his hands up. He feels when the sheer fabric gives way to smooth skin around the middle of her thigh, and he settles his his hands just above the top band of the material. 

Midge is kissing him, more tongue than lips, and her breath comes hard while Lenny rubs at the backs of her legs, his fingers circling around to clutch at the soft skin of her inner thighs. When she separates their lips to catch her breath for a moment, Midge reaches down to Lenny’s tie, loosens it, and slips it off. She then starts from the top down, unfastening the buttons on his shirt. 

Lenny removes his hands from under Midge’s skirt and then scoots back a little on the bed, giving her better access to his front. When she gets to the last button, they both reach down and tug Lenny’s shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants. Midge pushes it off his shoulders, and then goes to lift his undershirt over his head as well.

Midge leans down again, and lifts one of her knees up, then the other to land beside Lenny’s hips on the bed so she can get closer to him. They kiss, Midge running her hands all along the warm skin of Lenny’s shoulders and though the dark, coarse hairs on his chest. She’s settled herself down against him, straddling his hips. Lenny can feel the heat from her through the fabric of his pants. 

“Midge, can I take this off you please?” Lenny asks as he reaches his hands around to the nape of her neck where the zipper to her dress starts. 

“Yes, yes,” she answers quickly, moving her lips along the slight stubble against Lenny’s jaw.

He unfastens the clasp at the top and then unzips the long seam of her dress down to the small of Midge’s back. The cap sleeves of the shoulder loosen, and one of them falls down along her arm. Lenny takes advantage of the uncovered skin, kisses along the milky softness of her shoulder. 

“Here, stand up so I can slide this off you,” Lenny says, encouraging Midge up off his lap. They both stand, Lenny right in front of her as he carefully, slowly lowers the dress down Midge’s body. Once the dress has pooled at her feet and Midge steps out of it, Lenny picks it up and drapes it over a chair in the corner of his room, careful not to wrinkle it. Midge smirks, finds the delicate way he handles her dress sweet. 

Lenny turns back towards Midge, eyes narrowing as he takes her in. He has that same look on his face as he did sitting across from her at the dinner in Miami. Standing there in her bra and panties and pantyhose, she wants his hands all over her. 

He must read her mind. Lenny walks toward her, his bare feet quiet on the floor. “May I touch you?” he asks. 

“Please,” she grins. “I think I’ll combust if you don’t,” Midge answers quickly.

Lenny’s hands go immediately to the dip at Midge’s waist, and his warm hands cause her skin to break out in cold chills. They lean into each other, Lenny catching her lips in another deep kiss. This time it’s Midge who sits back on the bed, Lenny crawling over her. He encourages her back further until she’s lying fully on the bed, and she can feel his warm skin all along her stomach and chest.

Midge has Lenny’s lips all over her - her lips, her cheeks, down her neck, and across her collarbones. She shifts, bringing her legs up to cradle Lenny into her more fully while he turns her skin pink with his kisses. She reaches down between their bodies and gets her hands on his belt buckle, starting to undo it. When Lenny catches on to what she’s doing, he lifts up off her, kneeling between her spread legs, and helps her with his buckle. She then reaches her little hand in, and cups him, feeling how he’s hard for her. Midge looks up, watches Lenny close his eyes for a brief moment as he gets used to her touch. 

“Can’t do too much of that or we won’t get to the other fun stuff,” Lenny says as Midge rubs at him. He carefully pulls her her hand away, and then he stretches out alongside her, perching up on his elbow so he can use his other hand to trail his fingers lightly all over her chest and stomach while he mouths at her ear. 

He slips his hand around beneath her to the clasps at her bra and thumbs at them. “Okay?” he asks. She nods, arching up so that they can get the clasp undone. When the garment loosens, Midge quickly sheds it and drops it down beside the bed. Lenny bends down and kisses all along the red markings of the underside of her breasts. His cool lips feels so good on her skin, especially the soft parts that always feel raw and sore after a long day. 

Midge’s blush nipples quickly pebble up at Lenny’s touch, and he kisses up the swell of her left breast to take it into his mouth. Midge moans lightly at that, feeling how he sucks and laves at it. Her breasts aren’t large, but they fill up Lenny’s hand as he massages and cups at them. 

Midge writhes a little, her body throbbing all over. She clutches Lenny’s head at her breast, carding her fingers through his hair. Her breath is coming hard, chest heaving up and down. Lenny takes his lips off her skin and looks up at her. He’s got a grin on his face as his fingers trail down her side and then hook into the waist of her panties. 

“You alright?” he grins up at her. She looks at him, and doesn’t say anything. He’s overwhelming her senses, and she bets her pupils must be blown, blue giving away to the black center. 

Then, “I won’t tease you, Midge. I’ll give you whatever you want. You just gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

Midge briefly closes her eyes, trying to ground herself for a moment. She opens them and looks down at Lenny, cupping his cheek. 

“Please, I want your mouth on me. Like you said. Make me come with your mouth,” she says softly. 

Midge isn’t a prude, not by a long shot. She’d showed off her tits on-stage to anyone in the audience who wanted to see them and she’d talked about blow jobs with her ex. But she doesn’t think she had ever been so deliberate in bed with Joel or with Benjamin. She’d never so plainly told them what to do. She sort of just fell into bed with them and rolled with it - what happened, happened. And, generally, it had all been pretty good. She didn’t have too many complaints. But now, she feels like she’s being serviced by Lenny. She feels like she has the reins and can say the word and trust that he’ll follow through perfectly and precisely how she wants. 

Lenny leans up, kisses her so sweet and whispers against her lips: “Of course I’ll make you come good, sweetheart.”

Then he gets to work, licking and kissing all down her chest and her soft stomach. When his lips reach the edge of her panties, he hooks his fingers in the band and starts rolling them down over her hip bones. His lips follow, and he kisses down around her bellybutton, licking at the trail of dark hairs below.

Lenny situates himself more fully between her legs, his arms hooked over top where he’s slowly sliding off Midge’s underwear. He taps at her hip, and Midge arches up so that Lenny can get them down along her legs and then he’s dropping them on the floor near her bra. He then sits back up and rolls down her pantyhose, one leg at a time. Those are discarded in a ball behind him. 

“God, you are divine, Midge,” he says.

She doesn’t have time to think about being self-conscious, because Lenny places his mouth back on her, this time at her hip bone where he dully bites at her before quickly soothing over it with his tongue. Then he starts to trail kisses back inward toward her dark hair. He mouths along the seam of her inner thigh. By now Midge is panting, her eyes clenched shut and her hands are fisting in his sheets. She knows she must be dripping for him.

Lenny lets up a moment as he repositions himself more fully on his front. “Gonna put your legs over me, okay?” he says. And then he grabs under Midge’s left knee, then right knee to drape her legs over his shoulders. 

He turns his head to the left to place a kiss against the soft fat of her inner thigh. “You look so perfect like this, sweetheart. Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good.” Then she feels one of his hands spread her open to him, and the first fat lick of his tongue against her cunt has her mewling. 

She tries to keep her voice quiet, as she figures he’s got neighbors. But his tongue is making her dazed with how good it feels. He gives her fat licks across her opening and along her labia, and then switches to lighter little kitten licks when he makes his way up to her clit. He goes back and forth a few times before he attaches his lips around her clit and gives it some light suction. Midge’s hips stutter and then buck up into his face. She gives a hoarse moan, and her hands come up to grab into his hair. “Lenny,” she sighs.

She feels herself dripping all over, down onto the sheets. When her legs start to shake, Lenny detaches his lips from her cunt and asks: “Want my fingers?” 

“Yes,” she gasps out. _Yes, yes, anything he’ll give her, yes she wants it all._

Lenny then wets his middle and fourth finger, bows his head back down to attach his mouth around her clit, and gets his fingers inside her. Midge can hear how she sops around him, and she immediately bears down to clench at his two fingers. She feels him rubbing inside of her, and when he’s found a spot that makes her breath hitch, he takes his mouth off her clit to grin up at her and say: “There?”

Midge nods quickly and reaches down to clutch at his wrist so that he doesn’t move his hand. She holds him there, and then starts to move her hips in these tight little circles while she throws her head back and screws her eyes shut. Lenny watches her for a few moments, he sees the look on her face when she realizes she’s close but that she needs more of him to come. 

She opens her eyes and looks down at him, his dark eyes moving between her face, her tits swaying with each circle of her hips, and his fingers disappearing inside of her. “I’m really close,” she breathes out. “Lenny, I’m… I’m so close.”

Lenny nips at her thigh, then sits up on his knees. Her legs fall from where they were resting over his shoulders, and he encourages her to keep them bent on either side of him. Then he brings his other hand up, licks at his thumb, and starts to circle it tightly around Midge’s clit. Meanwhile, his fingers are still inside of her, rubbing at her walls, and he starts thrusting his hand more deeply into her.

Midge almost loses her breath at that. She feels like she can’t catch up to all the sensation that’s moving through her cunt, up deep into her belly, and along her limbs to the tips of her fingers and toes. She starts moving her hips faster in time with the thrust of Lenny’s hand and the circling of his thumb at her clit. And then her orgasm hits her fast. She peaks, heaving out a loud moan and her cunt clenches up tight around Lenny’s fingers. She pulses around him and he takes his thumb off her clit, making sure not to overstimulate her to where it’ll feel uncomfortable. Midge swears it feels like it’s hours before she stops seizing around Lenny’s fingers, and then she feels him pull out, rubbing briefly at her labia. 

Midge opens her eyes and watches just as Lenny sucks his fingers into his mouth, getting the taste of her. “You’re too good at that,” she breathes out. She feels so good that she doesn’t think she can move. Lenny smiles down at her, and then moves to lie down beside her. Midge turns to him, hooking her leg over his hip and kisses at his face that is all messy and wet with her. 

After a moment of slow kissing and Midge trying to come back into herself, she leans away from where they’re facing each other on their sides so she can look at him. She grinds her hips into him, and she imagines that he must be dying with how hard he is right now. “How do you want me?” she whispers.

Lenny’s answer is to grab at her leg that’s hooked over his hip and roll onto his back so that Midge is on top of him. “Good,” she breaths out, smiling. She reaches down to kiss over his chest, taking her time to lick at his nipples much like he did with her. 

He puts his hand under her hair at the base of her skull. “Sweetheart, I wish I could do this all night. But we’re running up against the high likelihood of me embarrassing myself in my pants sometime in the next thirty seconds if you keep it up,” Lenny says. And for this first time this evening, he’s the one that sounds strained and out of breath. Midge loves it. 

“Noted,” she says. Then she slides backwards, hovering over his knees. She leans down and nips at the skin just below his belly button before she grabs onto the waist of his pants and boxers and pulls them down in one go. Lenny helps her get them off the rest of the way, and kicks them down off his feet and onto the floor. 

Midge stares at his cock, all pink and hard and glistening. She bends down to lick at the underside of it and then blows cool air along the head. Lenny grunts out, his hips raising up slightly off the bed. “Shit, Midge,” he grounds out. Midge smiles at him, then scoots up so that she’s hovering above him. His chest is heaving, and they breathe into each other’s mouth as she rubs her slick cunt along his cock. One of Lenny’s hands runs lightly along Midge’s spine, while his other reaches out beside him and grasps at the handle of his nightstand.

Lenny opens the top drawer, feels around for a moment, before finding the foil packet. He rips it open and then reaches down between their bodies to roll the condom on his cock. Then he reaches up with one of his hands to cup at Midge’s cunt, getting her all over his hand. He rubs it along the condom so that it’s now slick with her. 

Midge doesn’t wait for Lenny to tell her. She grabs hold of the base of him, then sits down on his cock, letting him fill her up. Lenny has curled one hand under her arm, hooking it over her shoulder to pull her down so that her breasts are rubbing against his chest. His other hand has grabbed onto her hip. After a moment of them staying still, just feeling each other, Lenny squeezes at Midge’s hip and she starts to move.

She switches between circling her hips and grinding her clit against him, to moving up and down on his cock. Lenny is thrusting up against her, meeting her movements in time with his. Midge kisses at his lips sloppily, then leans her head to the side to pant breathy moans in his ear. It drives Lenny nuts and he won’t make it too much longer.

“Are you close?” Lenny asks. 

“Won’t come again. This is for you now,” she bites at his jaw. “I want you to come in me.” 

Lenny doesn’t argue or try to be the bigger man. He’s too far gone at this point. He digs his heels into the bed and grips at Midge tighter as he thrusts up into her. She’s so hot around him, and still so wet from her orgasm. He can’t help it when he feels the burn starting, and a few seconds later he’s coming in her. He thrusts hard up into her several times, clutching her down against him.

Midge is whispering _yes_ and _you feel so good_ and _thank you_ into Lenny’s ear as he comes down. And then he finally relaxes back into the bed, his legs loose and his arms laying limply over Midge’s sweaty back where she’s nestled on top of him. 

“Fuck, Midge,” he says after they lie in the quiet for a few minutes.

“We did,” she chuckles against his throat. Lenny rolls his eyes, kisses at the beads of perspiration along her hairline. 

He pats at the meat of her thigh: “Here, roll off. I gotta go take care of this.”

Midge untangles herself from Lenny and settles down on her side as she watches him sit up and then walk to the bathroom. She hears him snap the condom off, and then she hears the water running. When he walks back in, he has a warm washcloth in his hands, and he kneels next to her on the bed.

“Let me wipe you.” Lenny rubs between her legs, then folds the washcloth and wipes briefly under each of her arms. He leans down to peck her on the cheek, then walks back into his bathroom to toss the washcloth in with the soiled linens. Midge closes her eyes while she feels the cool air drying her skin, and she listens to him putter around the apartment. When she opens them again, he’s brought in two glasses of water and hands one to her. 

She gulps at it, watching him watch her as they drink. “You’re so _sweet_ ,” Midge says when she’s gulped down her water.

He laughs as he sets down their empty glasses on the nightstand. “Well, I try to be a standup guy when I’m around you,” he answers. 

He gets in bed beside her and drapes a quilt over them as she scoots into his side. “You staying here tonight, sweetheart?” he asks.

“If you’ll have me,” Midge answers softly.

He pulls her against him, and she reaches up to kiss his cheek, a mirror of the last time she was in his bed. He turns the lamp off, and they quickly fall asleep. 

In the morning, their breakfast is peppered with kisses and with hugs and with Lenny grabbing at Midge’s ass while she is refilling her coffee mug. Neither of them are brave enough to burst the bubble by trying to put a name to what exists between them now. But Lenny kisses her roughly and deeply against his front door before they unlock it and he follows her down the stairs to the street. He waves down a cab, cups at her cheek, and then brushes his lips lightly across her forehead. 

“You’re lovely,” he whispers against her skin. 

Midge smiles up at him, blinking slowly at the rush of warmth that washes over her. She pulls his hand that she’s holding up to her lips and kisses it gently. “I’ve got your number now, you know. So you better answer when I call you up.”

Lenny smiles, “I wouldn’t dream of missing it. I’ll wait by the phone night and day.”

Midge laughs and then scoots into the cab. Lenny leans in and brushes a soft kiss against her lips. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”

Midge turns in her seat to look at him as he lingers by the door of his building, watching him until her cab drives away and he is out of sight.


End file.
